La Vie en Rose
by I SingOnly4MyAngel
Summary: The child was beautiful, with blonde hair in tight curls and wide green eyes, just like her mother.
1. Comparisons

The child was beautiful, with blonde hair in tight curls and wide green eyes, just like her mother. Sibella was exhausted, but beaming, holding the newborn in her arms. Monty lay next to her, the both of them marveling at the baby, while Phoebe bustled around, making sure that everything was in order and that Sibella had

everything she might need.

"If he's observant enough, Lionel will have questions about the bone structure," Sibella said softly.

"Shush," Monty murmured. "Let's not talk about him." He leaned forward to kiss her gently. "Let's just be here, and now."

Phoebe at last stopped moving, and lay down on the other side of Sibella, pressing a kiss to her cheek. They sat without speaking for several minutes, gazing at the tiny bundle in Sibella's arms.

"What will you name her?" asked Phoebe after a time.

"Lionel wants 'Mildred', for his mother." The three of them collectively cringed. "But as he's not here, I think that allows me to choose the name," she smirked.

"I think you're right, darling," agreed Monty. "Any ideas?"

"I was thinking Rose."

"Rose," smiled Phoebe.

" _Rose_ ," Monty whispered.

"Is it unusual for babies to be born early?" Lionel asked.

"Not at all," replied Sibella.

"The hair is so curly, I wonder who that came from." Though he was clearly suspicious, Sibella remained calm and collected.

"Oh from me, dear. My hair was even curlier than that when I was little."

"And the eyes are yours, of course."

"Yes. I've always been fond of the green," Sibella said with a smile.

"But," said Lionel slowly, peering over Sibella's shoulder at the baby in her arms. "The bone structure of the face is… peculiar."

"Oh? How so?" Sibella asked innocently.

"The cheekbones are rather high, even higher than yours. The jawline is more prominent than yours or mine, and the nose…"

"I'm sure it's from my father's side of the family. I share more features with my mother than with my father. My grandfather, however, had a similar nose and jawline, and my mother's cheekbones are certainly high, you know that."

"Your grandfather, hmm?"

"Yes. Andrew was his name. Very kind-hearted man, and those lovely blue eyes always had a smile in them."

"And you're sure there's nowhere else these features could have come from?"

"Lionel, what are you suggesting?" questioned Sibella, suddenly cross.

"Oh, nothing my dear, just… wondering if you perhaps had anything to tell me."

"Other than 'we have a beautiful daughter'? Or that her name is Rose?"

"Rose?" Lionel scoffed.

"Yes, Rose," Sibella repeated. "We did discuss it. And as I recall, you agreed."

"Well then. Rose it is." And Lionel left the room without another word. Sibella breathed a sigh of relief and held her child closer. She knew full well that the facial features had not come from her grandfather. He had been a portly old man with red cheeks, no cheekbones to speak of, and a jawline that was indistinguishable from his neck. Though he had indeed been kind and jovial.

No, Sibella was fully aware that this child had a Navarro's face. The shape and bone structure was nearly identical to Monty's, though in a tiny female form they appeared more delicate. And such a beautiful tiny female form, she thought.

Sibella dipped her head down to brush a kiss against the sleeping baby's forehead, holding her daughter tightly.


	2. Suspicions

Sibella could tell that Lionel was suspicious. He had been from the beginning. But with every passing day, he seemed to glare at the baby more and more frequently.

In actuality, the resemblance was not terribly marked unless Monty was holding the child, and Sibella was able to pass off the Castillian facial features as a peculiar mix of Lionel's more repressed genes combining with her father's side of the family. And no one could ever doubt that this was Sibella's child; the cheekbones were high, the lips the same shape, and golden curls framed grey-green eyes.

But Lionel was a man obsessed. He stared at photographs in family albums for hours at a time, scrutinized Sibella as she slept, and drank more and more. And as his drinking habits grew, so did his violent tendencies.

There had been many fights, but nothing like that night. Lionel had polised off a bottle of bourbon- imported of course, for he would only drink the best- and had made a significant dent in a new one before he stumbled upstairs.

Sibella was still up. Rose had fallen asleep while in her lap as she was being put to bed, and Sibella had not had the heart to move her right away. She was already nearly two years old, and Sibella could not believe how quickly she was growing. Having put the little girl to bed, Sibella sat at her vanity table, brushing out her hair.

Lionel threw open the door to the room, startling Sibella. Instinctually, her mouth turned upward in a pleasant smile, but quickly dropped as she realised what state her husband was in. He lumbered towards her and she shrank back.

As he reached her, he struck her hard against the face with the back of his hand, knocking her out of her seat. The brush went flying out of her grasp, and the chair clattered to the floor, landing partially on top of her.

Sibella tried to draw air into her lungs, feeling like they had been knocked out of her body. Lionel pulled back a foot and kicked her sharply in the stomach. She let out a shout of pain, curling into herself.

Bending over, he grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her upright. She grabbed onto his wrist and forearm, trying to keep her hair attached to her head, screaming as his grip threatened to tear it out.

" _You disgusting little slut!_ " he bellowed in her face, his breath reeking of alcohol. "That child isn't mine and _I know it!_ "

"Lionel, don't be-" she began, but he cut her off by shoving her backward and slamming her against the wall. He backhanded her again, a ring on one of his fingers cutting into the skin of her cheek. As he drew back momentarily, she tried to dash around him for the door, but he grabbed her, pulling her backwards and tearing the pink fabric of her dress.

A fist connected with her face, knocking her off her feet and into the vanity. As she pulled herself up, her hands grasping at the edge of the table, she saw her chance.

Seizing a large book from the vanity- one that Phoebe had lent her- she whirled around just as Lionel came at her again. Raising an arm, she smashed the book against his head with as much force as she could manage.

The impact stunned him momentarily, and Sibella took her opportunity to hit him again, and then again, smashing the hard corner of the book against his head.

He tripped backward and struggled to regain his balance. Sibella ran, shoving him back onto the bed as she passed him, and bolted out the door.

Running into the next room, she grabbed a blanket from the dresser by the door and scooped up a still sleeping Rose into her arms, wrapping the blanket around her. Holding her daughter close, she dashed down the stairs and out the front door.

Lionel's car was in the driveway, and Sibella knew that the keys were in the glove compartment. She thanked God that she had asked Lionel to teach her to drive during their courtship, as she could now put the skill to good use.

When she arrived at Highhurst, she lifted Rose out of the back seat and, settling the child on her hip, rang the bell repeatedly.

It was not long before Mr. Gorby pulled open the heavy wooden door and immediately allowed her inside. Not a moment later, Monty poked his head out of his study, to see who their late-night visitor was.

As if on cue, Phoebe appeared at the top of the stairs, still dressed but with her hair unbound, falling in dark ringlets down her back. Both she and Monty came straight to her, a matching expression of concern on both of their faces.

"Oh, Sibella," breathed Phoebe sadly, reaching out a hand to brush her fingertips ever-so gently against her face, her eyes taking in the split lip, the cut across her cheekbone, the growing bruises, and the swelling around her eye. "How did you get away?"

"I hit him. With the Shakespeare," Sibella giggled slightly, though she soon began to cry. Her eyes filled with tears, but her mouth turned upwards in a dazzling smile.

"Dearest?" Monty questioned, confused by her apparent joy.

"I can file for divorce," Sibella spoke through her tears. "And I'll _win_." She wrapped her arms around her daughter, looking from Monty to Phoebe and back again, positively beaming.


	3. Gifts

Sibella had been so frightened going into it, but motherhood suited her. Little Rose was growing by the day, and everyone at Highhurst doted on her, Sibella most of all. The little girl was mischevious but sweet, frequently running away from servants trying to catch her and unexpectedly playing hide-and-seek, but she always came running when her mother called.

Golden curls bounced around her shoulders, and the tails of the sash on her dress flew out behind her as she ran down the hallways of the castle, giggling while Miss Shingle chased after her. She ran straight past Phoebe, who had her nose in a book and almost did not see the girl coming. The brunette stepped quickly to the side out of her path, smiling at her laughter.

Hearing the car horn honk outside in the driveway, Rose stopped abruptly before tearing around the next corner and sprinting into the entry hall, moving almost too quickly for her small legs to keep up.

Monty tried his best to catch her as she ran by, but she was just a tad too quick for him, and she slipped away, running for the front door. Just as she reached it, the door swung open and Sibella stepped over the threshold, returning home.

"Mummy!" Rose shouted, and Sibella bent down to meet her. The girl hit her at full speed, but Sibella used her momentum to lift her and spin her once in a circle before swinging her up to settle on one hip. Rose flung her arms around Sibella's neck. The blonde woman smiled broadly as she embraced her daughter.

"Hello, my darling," Sibella spoke, kissing the girl's forehead, then wiping away the lipstick mark left behind.

"I missed you, mummy!" Rose exclaimed.

"And I missed you! But I've brought you a present!"

The girl gasped, her whole face lighting up, her smile growing even bigger than it already was. Sibella set her down to reach for the bag she carried, while Rose bounced slightly in excitement. From the bag, Sibella produced a small pouch, which she handed to her daughter. Rose fumbled with the drawstring for a moment before tugging it open and peering inside. Reaching in with small fingers, she drew out a piece of jewellry, set with pearls. With wide eyes, she turned her face upward to beam at her mother.

"It's a clasp for your hair, to hold back all those curls! The pearls are only paste, but when you're older you shall have real ones."

"Put it on, put it on!" The girl insisted. She could hardly contain her excitement as she held the clasp up to her mother.

Sibella knelt beside her, taking the clasp from her. Pulling back two sections of golden curls, she positioned the clasp at the back of the girl's head, snapping it closed over her hair, while Rose bounced all the while.

"There," murmured Sibella, resting her hands lightly on her daughter's shoulders to let her know that she was done. The girl whirled around to smile at her mother, then turned to Monty with the same expression of utter joy.

"Phoebe, Phoebe! Look, look, look!" She shouted. Unable to remain still any longer, Rose took off running towards the library.

Sibella smiled, watching the girl run off. Her heart was warm and full, for she loved to see her daughter happy.


	4. Perfume

"You're so pretty, Mummy." The little girl beamed at her mother from her place on the bed. Sibella smiled at her in the vanity mirror.

"Thank you, darling." Sibella placed the last pin in her hair, blonde curls all piled up on top of one another, and reached for the necklace laid out on the vanity. Diamonds complimented the pink gown, with matching pink shoes. Her makeup was already done, and Rose had watched attentively while she had applied it. The little girl seemed to so enjoy watching her mother get ready for parties and evenings out, and so Sibella allowed her daughter to join her in her room each time.

Perfume was next; rose-scented, the flower that was her daughter's namesake. Sibella picked up the ornate bottle with the pink label and removed its stopper, swiping it on each side of her neck.

"Can I have some, Mummy?" the girl asked hopefully. Sibella turned in her chair to look at her daughter, all blonde curls and pleading eyes, and found that she could not refuse.

"Alright, come here then."

Rose jumped off the bed and bounded across the room to her mother. Sibella took her hand, turning it over so that her palm faced the ceiling. Very lightly, she brushed the stopper against her daughter's wrist.

"Now rub your wrists together just a touch." The girl did as she was instructed before lifting both wrists to her nose and inhaling deeply. A wide smile spread across her face.

"Thank you Mummy, I love it! Now I smell like you!"

"You do indeed," Sibella laughed. "Now be a good girl and run along. Miss Shingle will get you ready for bed and I'll come up in a little while to tuck you in, alright?"

"Yes, Mummy!" And she dashed off, blonde curls bouncing behind her.

True to her word, Sibella excused herself from the party downstairs. As she moved towards the door, she crossed paths with Phoebe.

"Tell her goodnight from me, would you?" The brunette asked.

"Yes, of course I will. She'll be glad to hear it, I know." Phoebe caught Sibella's hand and pressed it gently for a moment before releasing her to go upstairs.

Sibella gently pushed open the door, a sliver of light falling on the rug and across Rose's face. The girl was asleep in bed, looking positively angelic. But as the light hit them, her eyes drifted open. Realising that Sibella was there, she smiled sleepily.

"Mummy!" Rose mumbled. "I tried to stay awake for you, I told Teddy to keep watch, but I guess he fell asleep too."

Sibella always thought it was adorable that Rose referred to her stuffed bear as though he were an animate being, so she always played along.

"I'm sure Teddy did his best." She crossed to sit on the edge of the bed. "Phoebe says goodnight as well, she wanted me to tell you." Rose's smile grew wider; she was very fond of Phoebe.

"Will you tell her I said goodnight to her?"

"Yes. Now go on back to sleep." Sibella tucked the blankets around the girl and made sure her bear was close at hand.

"Mummy? Will you sing?"

Sibella smiled and in response began to hum a melody that she knew was Rose's favourite. She remembered hearing her mother sing it when she was a child, and it felt very fitting that she now sang it to her own child. It was a melody by Brahms, soft and simple, and before Sibella had even finished humming, Rose was fast asleep.

She leaned down to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead. Rose truly was a beautiful little girl, she thought as she lingered on the bed. A beautiful little girl that would someday grow into a beautiful young woman. But Sibella wished sometimes that she could keep Rose just as she was in this moment, young and unencumbered by the world and its ways.

"Goodnight, darling," she whispered. Lightly brushing the backs of her fingers across Rose's cheek, Sibella stood and left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.


End file.
